


Blanketed

by trashbambi



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Murder Husbands, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Fall (Hannibal), a really ugly blanket, loudly implied cannibalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 13:10:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17684090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashbambi/pseuds/trashbambi
Summary: Sounds were dulled by the thick blanket of snow outside. Will sat in the window seat, watching thick flurries of flakes apply new layers to the already laden trees. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself, the soft wool knit soothing his pricking skin. A gift from their elderly neighbour when they’d moved in.





	Blanketed

**Author's Note:**

> My piece from the After The Fall zine!

Sounds were dulled by the thick blanket of snow outside. Will sat in the window seat, watching thick flurries of flakes apply new layers to the already laden trees. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself, the soft wool knit soothing his pricking skin. A gift from their elderly neighbour when they’d moved in.

“It gets frightfully cold in winter, you’ll need all the help you can get,” She’d told thim as she handed Will the brightly coloured bundle of granny squares. He was pleased that he’d managed to understand her, his skill with the Russian language having improved over the year they’d been there.

He thought back to how Hannibal had wrinkled his nose at the sight of the clashing tones of the blanket spread out over the foot of their bed, and smiled. It seemed even he had his limits to how many colours were allowed to be grouped together in such a small space. Hannibal had relented and accepted it’s presence when Will had explained it’s origins. He was fond of the woman, they both were.

Standing from his seat in the lounge, Will padded on quiet feet toward the kitchen to find his husband. He stopped in the doorway to watch as Hannibal mixed ingredients for burgers by hand.

Will had always assumed Hannibal would balk us such simple faire as burgers and fries, but it turned out that as long as he were the one to make it all, he was perfectly happy to sup on whatever meal Will requested of him. Especially when Will provided the meat; gleefully so when said meat was of the _long_ variety.

“Must you loiter in the entryway in that monstrosity? Come, sit at the bar if you insist on watching me work.”

Will’s lips tugged into a fond smile at the corners. He entered and sat as directed, wrapping the blanket around his arms and leaning on them to keep warm against the cold, polished stone worktop.

“It’s warm and comfortable.” Reaching out, Will snagged half a cherry tomato from the salad bowl, popping it into his mouth and enjoying the look of consternation on Hannibal’s face.

“You’ll ruin your appetite.”

“Hush, you know full well half a tomato never ruined anyone's appetite.”

Hannibal’s gaze flicked to up to meet his for a brief moment before he returned to the task at hand, shaping the mass of meat and seasonings into patties.

“Perhaps so, but I’d prefer if, for once, you didn’t consume half the meal before it arrived at the table.”

“Hmm, I suppose I should make myself scarce until dinner is done then. Call me?”

“As you wish.”

* * *

Minutes slipped into hours; dinner was devoured, wine drained; they retried to the lounge together. Will curled on the couch as Hannibal stoked the fire, piling on logs. He stretched his feet closer to the flames, humming in contentment as heat washed over them.

A clink of metal sounded has Hannibal returned the poker to its stand and turned. Will opened his arm, the blanket with it, offering up space for Hannibal to join him in his warm cocoon. He stood for a moment, looking over Will with a hint of exasperation before he placed himself beside Will on the sofa. Hannibal huffed as Will wrapped his arm around him and pulled him in close.

Firelight danced over them, the only illumination in the dark of the Russian winter just outside the arctic circle. Hannibal relaxed against him and Will turned his head to press a kiss to Hannibal’s hair.

“I suppose you were correct. The blanket is rather warm and comfortable. Perhaps I should procure a gift for our neighbour.”

“Perhaps.”

**Author's Note:**

> Catch me [on Twitter](https://twitter.com/TrashBambi) or [on Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/trashbambi)!
> 
> Your comments and kudos fuel me!
> 
> (and 30 tropes is going but going slowly cause so busy hhh)


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